


Bite the Bullet

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Series: The Dos and Don'ts of Dealing with Originals [3]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Knifeplay, M/M, Medical Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon has come down with a severe case of wood poisoning. Can Doctor Elijah save him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite the Bullet

“Be still.”

 

Caught in Elijah’s gaze, Damon ceases his struggling. He isn’t sure why—if he weren’t on vervain, he’d be certain Elijah had compelled him.

 

“Just hurry,” Damon hisses through the pain. Every wooden bullet seems to sear through his insides.

 

Instead of replying, Elijah merely reaches into his jacket and pulls out a scalpel, holding it up for a moment. The light from the chandelier glints off the blade, catching Damon’s gaze and dazzling him for a moment. But then his mind registers what he’s seeing and his eyes widen and he shrinks back against the hard wood of the table—the dining room table, of course, he thinks nonsensically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he eyes the scalpel—where did that come from?

 

“Can’t you just suck them out?” Damon asks, giving Elijah a flirtatious flash of his eyes as he tries to bluster his way out of the situation. “I bet you’d be good at suck—ow!” He draws in a sharp breath, wincing in pain as Elijah stabs his thumb into one of the holes.

 

“I told you to be still.”

 

Damon starts to reach for Elijah’s hand, stopping with a groan as Elijah digs his thumb into the bullet hole on Damon’s shoulder once more for emphasis.

 

“I am still,” Damon says, petulance sliding into his voice. As he speaks, he’s trying to twist away, but that just hurts more.

 

“I can be still.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m very good at still.”

 

Elijah just snorts, but Damon thinks he sees a glint of amusement in his eyes. Damon opens his mouth again, his promise to be still forgotten, but his words lie forgotten on his tongue as the scalpel flashes down and into his chest. He doesn’t notice the pain immediately, but then he does—sharp and clear and purifying. He groans as Elijah digs into the wound, carving around the bullet and then under, the blade scraping against Damon’s collar bone seeming to screech like nails on a chalkboard to Damon’s vampiric hearing. Just as Damon thinks he can no longer bear it, the pressure released and the bullet pops out of the wound and lands on the table.

 

“Good boy,” Elijah murmurs and Damon feels proud for the barest of moments, but then he tamps it down. He doesn’t need Elijah’s approval, for fuck’s sake.

 

“Hooray,” Damon says, a mocking tone sliding into his voice. “Do I get a cookie?”

 

Elijah flash dangerously and then he jabs the scalpel into another hole, driving the bullet that had started to work its own way out deeper into Damon’s flesh.

 

“Fuck!” Damon gasps, his face screwing up in pain. “Totally unnecessary, dude.”

 

“If you’d just kept still like I told you, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Elijah says, his lips forming a thin line. If Damon didn’t know better, he’d think Elijah was upset. “Mouthing off to those hunters was ‘unnecessary.’ But, as usual, you just couldn’t help yourself. Dude.”

 

Before Damon can make a snarky comment about Elijah saying “dude” that would no doubt get him into even more trouble, Elijah leans in closely—too closely—and the scent of his cologne invades Damon’s senses, mixing with smell of blood, and—goddammittohell—Damon’s starts to stiffen.

 

“Hurry up,” he breathes, anxious for it to end before Elijah notices, but Elijah’s frown just deepens as he carves out the bullet. The pain just adds to his predicament, making him even harder, and he’s breathing shallowly through his nostrils, hoping that Elijah will mistake his pounding heart and unrest for pain.

 

Despite Elijah’s annoyance with him, however, his touch gentles as he quickly removes the bullet, brushing his thumb over the closing wound once he’s done. Damon’s eyes widen in surprise as Elijah raises his thumb to his mouth, licking the blood off it absently before picking up the scalpel once more.

 

“Just one more,” Elijah says, sliding the blade into the last wound.

 

Elijah’s tongue darts out to remove the rest of the blood from his lips as Damon stares transfixed, barely noticing as the bullet slides out easily. Damon is about to say something that will probably ruin the moment, but then Elijah’s head dips and he’s dragging his tongue over the closing wound, which is just barely a shallow cut now, and Damon comes undone, his fingers digging into the table, marring the dark mahogany as he releases—the only sign, he hopes, of his “discomfort.”

 

Elijah straightens up and steps away as if nothing has happened and Damon thinks his… transgression has gone unnoticed. But then Elijah reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his handkerchief, holding it out to Damon with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Thanks,” Damon says, giving Elijah a lopsided grin. Elijah’s lips just twitch like he’s holding back a smirk.

 

“You’re welcome,” he replies. Before Damon can respond, he turns on his heel and then he’s gone.


End file.
